Goodbye to You
by LuxKen27
Summary: When Stacy learns that her father's recent promotion means a move to Vermont for the entire family, she struggles to find a way to say goodbye to her best friends. Divergence from Season 4.


Title: Goodbye to You

Author: LuxKen27

Universe: Canon divergence (Season 4)

Genre: Angst/Romance

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,485

Summary: When Stacy learns that her father's recent promotion means a move to Vermont for the entire family, she struggles to find a way to say goodbye to her best friends.

**DISCLAIMER: **The _Kids Incorporated_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1984 -1993 Thomas Lynch/Gary Biller/MGM Television/20th Century Fox Home Entertainment/Disney Channel. Any resemblance to any person currently living or deceased is unintended (aka, I am writing about the _characters_, not the _actors_ who portray them). No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Your Eyes" © 2004 Marc Jordan, Chin Injeti, & Fred St Gelais

* * *

_If I was drowning in the sea_

_Would you dive right in and save me?_

_If I was falling like a star_

_Would you be right there to catch me?_

_If I was dreaming of your kiss_

_Would you look right through me?_

.xxxxx._  
_

Stacy glanced up from her perch on the last of the packing crates, taking one last, long look around her now-barren room: the empty shelves, the blank walls, the stripped bed, the vacant bureau. It had been such a gradual process – taking down her posters, boxing up her books and tapes, packing her clothes into interminable suitcases – that, until now, she hadn't realized just how much those things had made this room home. Soon enough, she'd have another room, in another home, in the picturesque Vermont countryside – a huge, sprawling space compared to this one, in fact, big enough so that she could keep her favorite, velvet-topped chaise all to herself – but still. This room had always been her sanctuary, and now she was leaving it.

_It's so weird_, she thought, eyeing the freshly-painted white walls. _I thought it would hurt more._ Instead, she felt numb, as if she was standing apart from herself, contemplating all those things she was supposed to feel and wondering when it would sink in. She didn't want to leave the city, or her friends, or even her classmates – they were all supposed to start high school together next week. Instead of attending end-of-summer parties, or helping plan the final concert of the season with the rest of Kids Inc, she had been packing her life into boxes and bags, preparing to pick up and move on fairly short notice. It'd only been a month since her father had broken the news of his promotion at work, one that required him to move an entire state away from everything his daughters had ever known.

And yet, as she sat alone in that empty room, she felt none of those things she expected to feel. There was no sadness, no trepidation, no depression or anxiety or fear or nervousness.

There was nothing, except numbness, weighing heavily in the pit of her stomach.

"Stacy? Are you ready?"

She turned, noticing her sister standing in the hall, leaning against the door frame. Renee's hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, the sleeves of her shirt hiked up above her elbows. Renee was an old pro at moving by now, having been to England and back over the last year – and then off to a dorm at Columbia only last week. She'd have a room at their new house in Vermont, but her _home_ would still here, in the city.

Stacy couldn't help but feel a little bit envious of that.

She sighed, standing up and smoothing the strip of packing tape that sealed the crate she'd been sitting on. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied with a shrug.

Renee put her arm around her younger sister's shoulders as Stacy passed through the doorway one last time. "Come on," she said, a note of forced cheer in her voice. "I have something to show you."

Stacy glanced at her curiously. What in the world could be left to see? The entire apartment was empty, completely devoid of all things, save the furniture that had come with the place.

"Just trust me, okay?" Renee asked with a knowing smile, steering her sister towards the front door.

Stacy nodded wordlessly, training her eyes to the ground as they walked, not quite able to bring herself to take a last look around the place she'd always called home. It felt almost foreign to even _walk_ though, their footsteps echoing through the empty hall. The lead weight in her stomach shifted, twisting over on itself like a knot.

_Don't look back_, she told herself, squeezing her eyes shut as they passed through the front door of the apartment and rode the elevator down to the lobby of their building. _You can never look back._

She was momentarily surprised when her sister forged ahead, moving down the street with renewed purpose in her step, her arm still firm around her shoulders. Stacy watched the sidewalk as they walked, trying to commit every dip and nook and cranny to memory, wondering if the sidewalks in snowy Vermont would ever compare. Did people even go outside when it snowed, or was it like the city, where everything shut down at the first hint of a blizzard?

Stacy was so lost in her melancholy thoughts that she didn't even realize where they were headed until the bright blue-frame doors of the building edged into her vision. She lifted her eyes, a surprised smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "What in the – ?" she breathed.

"SURPRISE!" shouted a chorus of voices. Stacy blinked, not believing her eyes even as her vision cleared, and she saw the other members of the band – her best friends in the entire world – grinning back at her as they pushed through the double glass doors.

"You guys," she choked out, staring at each of them in turn, "what's going on?"

"It's a party, silly," Connie explained. The youngest of the group, she was also the smallest, staring up at her bandmate from underneath a dark fringe of hair.

"Yeah," the Kid echoed, wrapping his arms around his best friend. "We couldn't let you go without telling you what you meant to us."

"What you'll _always_ mean to us," Ryan corrected drolly, stepping forward and patting Stacy's shoulder lightly.

Stacy averted her eyes, feeling the tell-tale warm flush that always seemed to flood through her while in his presence creeping up the back of her neck. "I – I don't know what to say," she replied as the Kid released her.

"Say you'll come inside," Richie urged as he pushed his hip against the door. "Riley's prepared a feast!"

The others laughed, knowing that whenever food was available for the taking, their wily drummer was never too far away.

The group trooped inside, chatting lightly as they entered the brightly-lit front room, decorated with balloons and streamers and a big banner that read, _We'll miss you, Stacy!_ hanging from the rafters of the stage. A few of the tables had been pushed together and were laden with all sorts of party food, from chips to chocolates to ice cream of all flavors, but the real centerpiece was a gigantic chocolate cake, bearing the same message as the banner, spelled out in pink icing. Riley was standing behind the table, his hands clasped in front of his body, an ice cream scoop dangling from his fingers.

Stacy could feel tears threatening behind her eyes. "You guys," she breathed, groping for something coherent to say, "this is _amazing_!" She glanced up. "Is this really all for me?"

"Well, _technically_ it's for both you and Renee," Riley started.

" – but it's _really_ for you, sis," Renee interrupted, folding her arms around Stacy's shoulders. "After all, I'll still be around, even if I'm no longer in the band."

The Kid shook his head. "I think you should reconsider, Renee," he said. "The band really won't be the same without both of you."

"Let's talk about that later, okay?" Renee responded with a rush, giving her sister a reassuring squeeze. "This is Stacy's party. We're here to celebrate her, not only as a bandmate, but as a friend."

Stacy shot her sister a worried look. "But what about Mom and Dad?" she whispered.

Renee smiled. "They're going to come by and pick us up in a few hours," she said softly. "I'm sorry, Stace, but the last time you were in the apartment _was_ the last time."

Stacy shrugged. "That's okay," she replied with a smile, glancing up at the others. "I'm really glad I'm going to be able to spend my last hours in New York with you guys."

"That's the spirit," Richie encouraged. "Now, can we eat? I'm _starving_!"

Connie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like you didn't practically inhale lunch while we were setting all this up," she teased.

Richie shrugged, taking the barb good-naturedly. "That was _hours_ ago," he scoffed. "Besides, I'm always ready for dessert!"

"Well, we have enough dessert here to put ourselves into diabetic comas," Ryan noted wryly, sending a smile in Stacy's direction. "But for you, Stace, it's worth it."

Stacy blushed, but luckily for her, pandemonium erupted at precisely the same moment as the others clambered forward, filling their plates with cake and candy, and giving Riley their orders for his special custom-made sundaes. Only Stacy and Ryan hung back from the crowd, watching their friends with amused expressions.

Ryan took a step closer to her. "It might not seem like it now," he observed confidentially, "but I promise, they really are going to miss you."

_Will you?_ Stacy thought, the knot in her stomach tightening. She couldn't quite meet his gaze, instead concentrating on her sister and their friends as they drifted away from the food, settling at nearby tables. "The least they could've done was let the guest of honor go first," she joked, eyeing what was left of the food.

Ryan smiled, clicking his heels together and tucking one arm behind his back, gesturing with the other for her to go next. "By all means," he demurred, bowing slightly.

Stacy rolled her eyes and grinned, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. "Stop being silly," she admonished lightly.

Ryan's expression turned comically tragic. "You wound me!" he sighed dramatically, placing his free hand over his heart.

Stacy watched him curiously from the corner of her eye as she approached the table. Ryan only acted like that when he was nervous about something – and considering his inherent sense of self-confidence, those moments were rare, indeed. He'd reverted back to his normal self after holding the exaggerated pose for mere moments, reaching around her to pick up a plate.

"Hey, Stace!" Renee called. "Come sit with us!"

Stacy glanced up, noticing Renee waving from the table she was sharing with the Kid. Richie and Connie were sitting at the next table over, already elbow-deep in ice cream and cake. She looked back to her left, covertly watching Ryan from beneath her eyelashes. Before she could work up the nerve to ask him if he wanted her to sit with him instead, something else caught her gaze. She looked over Riley's shoulder, furrowing her brow. "What's that?" she asked, as Riley sliced an extra-large piece of cake for her.

Riley glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, that?" he mused nonchalantly, feigning innocence as he turned to face Stacy once more. "It's a projector screen."

"A projector screen?" Stacy echoed, confused. Silently, she sized up the large white screen that sat in the center of the stage, blocking the view of the band's drum set entirely. "What do we need _that_ for?"

"You'll see," Ryan murmured, accepting his own slice of cake and walking away before Stacy could reply. She was a bit disappointed to see him slide into a seat at the table with Richie and Connie, but tried not to let it show. Quickly, she accepted the sundae Riley offered her and set off towards her sister's table.

The others were chatting lively, joking and laughing and smiling, but Stacy found she couldn't quite match their enthusiasm. She pushed her food around on her plate as – _finally_ – all sorts of emotions churned up inside her. She was going to miss these people _so much_ – she'd been a member of the group for nigh on five years now, and for as long as she could remember, her existence had revolved around them. She loved singing, and she loved performing, but most of all, she loved being around them, these people who filled her life with constant joy and support. What was she going to do without them? Without the Kid to run to every time she had a fight with Renee (or Renee, every time she had a fight with the Kid)? Without Richie the charm-meister, always with a get-rich-quick scheme up his sleeve? Without sweet, sensitive Connie, always willing to lend her unwavering encouragement? Without Ryan – ?

Stacy closed her eyes, stilling her hands. Ryan had come to mean very much to her over the summer, much more than she ever could've imagined, and yet somehow – not. From the first moment they met, she'd known he was someone special. Coolly self-assured, he was unlike anyone she'd ever met before, equally willing to embrace his dorky side as much as he indulged in his serious interests, music chief among them. He was the type of person who could be friends with anyone, from the lowliest geek to the baddest badass.

But over the summer, something had shifted between them. He was still her friend, as kind and sarcastic as always, running the group with an ever-strengthening iron first now that he was the oldest and, by default, the one in charge. If anything, it was _her _feelings towards _him_ that had changed – suddenly she started noticing just how good-looking he was, especially now that he'd let his trademark spikes grow out; she noticed how kind and warm and patient he was with the others, especially newbies Richie and Connie, as they struggled to learn the ropes of the band's rehearsal and performance schedule; she noticed how he was so incredibly intelligent, but that how he took care to never make anyone else feel stupid in his presence. She noticed how strange she started to feel whenever she was around him, like she was light and weak inside, her stomach full of butterflies.

She noticed how jealous she felt when she saw him flirting with other girls, like those who crowded around during the band's performances and sighed lovingly in his direction whenever he sang lead.

She hadn't shared her thoughts or feelings about him with anyone else, even though she spent half the time confused, and the other half miserable. She didn't want her sister or her best friend to tease her, or tell her what she already knew: that she had a big, embarrassing crush of the worst sort, the kind that would probably only worsen with time. She didn't want to tell them because she didn't want them to tell Ryan – she wanted to keep these feelings, to hold onto them and examine them and indulge them a little while longer. She knew she had no chance with him, romantically – how clear could a person make it that he saw her as little more than a sister, at best?

"Aaaaaaaaaand now," Riley intoned, breaking into Stacy's reverie as he swept in front of the group of gathered friends, "it's time for the main event!"

Stacy glanced up at him curiously, watching as he made a great show out of setting up a projector a few tables away, close to the stage. She realized the others had fallen strangely calm, but when she looked at them, there were wearing identical grins, staring at her in anticipation.

Just as she was starting to feel a bit paranoid by her friends' collective expressions, the projector sputtered to life, throwing up a grainy image on screen. Stacy inhaled sharply as the pictures began to move, a fuzzy accompanying soundtrack blasting from the stage speakers. She couldn't help but laugh out loud as she recognized herself, albeit quite a few years younger, performing with one of the earliest incarnations of the band.

"This party is to celebrate you, Stacy," Riley said, raising his voice over the music, "so we thought we'd take a walk down memory lane." He gestured to the screen, walking over to the counter to lower the lights in the room.

"You guys," Stacy bubbled, her eyes dancing as she watched the five-year-old clips. "How did you – ?"

"Gloria's clips came in handy," Renee explained, squeezing her sister's shoulder. "Remember when she asked Riley to start recording our concerts, so she could have a performance reel to send in with her applications to music school?"

"That's right," Riley said, approaching their table and laying a hand on the back of the Kid's chair, grinning as he watched the clips. "And then she wanted to see you guys even after she left the band, so I just never stopped filming."

Stacy and the others turned their attention to the screen, totally enthralled as they watched song after song. It was so strange for Stacy to see herself as the audience did, while at the same time dredging up the memories of what each song had been like to perform. The "Premonition" cover from 1985 had been her first solo of the year, and she'd been incredibly nervous – not that it showed. Then there was the time the band had covered Elvis Presley's "Jailhouse Rock", and she'd sung half of it from inside an actual jail cell! That had been really fun.

"You always could bring down the house," Renee murmured, her eyes admiring as she watched the performance of John Waite's "Change" from one of their 1985 Saturday night performances.

Stacy smiled. "Thanks," she replied, utterly enchanted with how well the song and the performance had been pulled together. Riley had just started learning all sorts of new and interesting lighting techniques, which had really enhanced all of their concerts, casual and formal alike.

"Ooh, do you remember this?" the Kid cried, as their high-octane cover of "Dangerous" began rolling across the screen. "Hot damn, but that was an awesome number!"

Stacy smiled when she saw him singing along with his five-years-younger self.

"It was definitely a peak performance of the season," Ryan agreed.

When she glanced at him, she noticed his approving smile – and, beyond that, the slack jaws of Richie and Connie as they sat, wide-eyed, through the performance.

"Wow," Connie breathed.

"Double wow!" Richie echoed. "You guys were amazing!"

Ryan nodded. "All you need is the right chemistry, and, as you can see – magic happens."

Stacy glanced away, feeling her cheeks heat for the umpteenth time that day. It didn't help that the next song on was one of the many duets she'd performed that year with Ryan, a cover of Phil Collins's "Only You Know & I Know." She only blushed harder as she watched their former selves play into the song, rather unable to believe her eyes when Ryan fell on one knee to finish out a verse for her. The song had been so much fun to perform, and it was obvious by her idiotic grin that she was enjoying herself, but some small, wistful part of herself wished she'd been old enough to realize just how playfully sweet and suggestive the completely ad-libbed move was.

Renee elbowed her sister. "Adorable," she declared under her breath, and suddenly Stacy was incredibly grateful for the darkness that shrouded them.

Mercifully, the clips moved on, showcasing some of her solo numbers from their final year with Gloria – starting with a rather bittersweet cover of OMD's "If You Leave." The band had just met a very sad boy who'd run away from home, and shortly before this performance, Ryan and Gloria had convinced him to return to his anxious and worried parents. He'd left during the song, which they had dedicated to him…and she wondered, briefly, whatever happened to him.

Of course, now the song stung because of the lyrics: _promise me just one more night / then we'll go our separate ways / we've always had time on our side / now its fading fast / every second, every moment / we've got to – got to make it last – !_

The next clip wasn't much better – Scandal's "Goodbye to You" caused tears to well up in her eyes, and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. She felt a fresh set of arms on her shoulders, and glanced up to see the Kid, who'd slipped out of his seat and positioned himself between her and Renee.

He pressed close to her, his temple meeting hers. "It'll never be easy to say goodbye to you," he whispered in her ear, giving her an extra squeeze. "So we won't."

"Thanks, Kid," she sniffled. "You're the best." It hardly seemed fair, to be moving away with her family just as he'd returned from an exchange year abroad. She'd missed him terribly, but somehow their friendship had grown stronger and more resilient, even when they were separated by eight time zones and an ocean. They'd written constantly and called often, each coming to realize just how much the other had meant to them. She knew that they would have no problem transitioning their friendship once again, even in this more permanent arrangement.

"Oh, hey, I remember this!" Connie piped up, pointing at the screen. "The last song you guys did before you held auditions!"

Stacy and the Kid glanced up, smiling through tears as they recognized the high-energy rendition of Stephanie Mills's "Bit by Bit."

"You always did perform this better than me," the Kid sighed, no trace of modesty in his voice.

Stacy slid an incredulous stare in his direction. "You don't have to humor me, you know," she drawled.

The Kid considered her words for about two seconds before his mouth split into a smile. "Okay, I take it back," he declared happily. "My version _did_ have a genie in it, after all."

"Well," Renee cut in, reaching for her sister's hand, "if I had to choose which songs I think you did best, I'd have to pick the Debbie Gibson covers." She nodded towards the screen. "Your voice is a perfect match for hers."

Stacy barely heard her sister's words, her eyes riveted to the screen. "Only in My Dreams" had been one of her favorite performances of the past year. She'd been so excited about singing lead after such a long draught on stage that she didn't even care it was one of the pop princess's gushier songs. She remembered moving with authority around the stage, commanding attention even when the group broke down into smaller trios for the second verse, and then, of course, shining in the swell of crowd support when she finished the performance on a riser in the middle of the audience. She watched with curious eyes, having seen enough now to know that she tended to wear her emotions on her sleeve, wondering just how much of that glee and satisfaction had shone through for others to pick up on.

What she saw was something entirely different – namely, how silly Ryan was acting on stage, and how nervous he seemed during their shared ten seconds of the second verse. He wouldn't look her in the eye at all, but his eyes seemed to follow her everywhere else on the stage. The lump in the pit of her stomach contracted as she watched. How could she have missed that during the performance? How many times had he acted so oddly out of character like that?

And, now that she thought about it…the only other time she could remember it happening was when he was head over heels for Riley's cousin Suzanne a couple of years before…

She felt her heart lurch painfully in her chest, and her smile faded.

Had there been an opportunity that she'd missed by being so oblivious? How could she have been so stupid, to be wrapped up in her own happiness over her performance?

Because that's certainly how she felt now – stupid. Miserable and stupid.

The sweet opening strains of the next taped performance began, a cover of Wang Chung's "Let's Go!" that the group had modified into a duet – one she'd shared that year with Ryan. Stacy watched through filmy eyes as memories and sensations raced through her. Ryan had been much calmer this time, taking the lead line with her harmony; it was almost painful to hear how _good_ the song sounded, all those years of practice and performance paying off in the seamless blend of their voices.

She remembered how nervous she was during that performance, the first of an afternoon set after a particularly wearing day at school. She was always a little nervous anyway when dueting with one of the boys instead of her sister or Connie, because it was harder to be on key and on pitch with a voice an octave lower than her own. Ryan had somehow sensed that as they two walked back to the stage to rejoin the others for the second verse, and he'd quickly whispered that they should do their signature move, one they had started doing during their very first duet together five years before. It had been an unexpected stage direction, but a welcome one, as she slid out on her right foot while he rocked back on his left, singing part of the line to him and receiving his encouragement, before changing direction and repeating the action. She remembered, so acutely now, the way his gaze had held hers for those few, electrifying moments, as if they were the only two people in the world. Even now, in her mind's eye, should could picture it so perfectly…it was the first time she'd noticed the deep emerald color of his eyes, and something beyond even that, something that pulled her in and made her heart flutter –

She pushed up from the table, not wanting the others to see her tears as they spilled over. What was she going to do without her best friends in the entire world? How could she face high school without them? Without _him_?

What was she going to do without Ryan, the first boy she'd ever really, _truly _fallen in love with?

.xxxxx.

_Your eyes are holding up the sky_

_Your eyes make me weak / I don't know why_

_Your eyes make me scared to tell the truth_

_I thought my heart was bulletproof_

_Now everybody knows I'm into you_

.xxxxx._  
_

Stacy sat in the store room behind the stage of the P*lace, her knees drawn to her chest as she curled up in one of the chairs at the table, her back to the door. She stared listlessly ahead, tears sliding down her cheeks unabated, but she made no move to wipe them away. How was it possible to miss her friends already, when she hadn't even left? How was it possible to feel so lonely and out of sorts, when they were sitting only one room away?

How was it possible that, once upon a time, the object of her affection had actually liked her back, but she had completely and totally missed it?

She felt like a fool. A sad, lonely fool who may have missed the opportunity of a lifetime…

She startled when she heard the door creak open, but she didn't bother to turn around. She figured someone would come for her eventually, wanting to know why she had run out of the room in such a hasty ball of panic. She shrugged. _It's probably Renee_, she thought, hugging her knees to her chest. Who better to send in to comfort her than her very own big sister?

"You're a great singer, Stacy," someone who was most decidedly _not_ her sister said, his tone soft yet firm. There was a soft click as the door fell into place in its frame. "I hope you don't give it up, even after you leave us."

Stacy bowed her head, even as she heard him approach her. "I don't want to leave," she replied, not sure – in that moment – if she was referring to the band, or to him.

Silently, she listened as Ryan pulled up a chair and sat beside her. He didn't say a word as he reached for her, sliding a reassuring arm over her shoulders. She glanced over at him, momentarily surprised at how close he was to her, his all-knowing emerald eyes merely inches from hers, framed by dark swathes of glossy black hair. As her gaze met his, she felt herself being pulled into him once again, attracted like metal to a magnet. His expression was calm, endlessly open and patient, and she felt her resistance crumbling.

"I'm so – scared," she choked out, tightening the grip of her arms around her knees.

He nodded slowly. "I understand," he replied, smoothing his thumb in a circle over the base of her neck. "It's scary, to pick up your life and just – _move_ it, wholesale, to another town or another state."

She knew that he knew well of whence he spoke, having moved several times with his family when he was a kid. He'd once told the band that this was the longest period of time his family had ever stayed in one place before, and that he'd been grateful it was _here_, where he had such a terrific group of friends.

If ever there was anyone around who knew what she was going through, it was him. How bitterly ironic, indeed – the one person she could talk to, ask questions of, and commiserate with was the one person she felt so incredibly tongue-tied around these days.

Especially with those eyes…

"How am I ever going to make it without you guys?" she murmured, her tears continuing to fall, unabated. "I'm starting _high school_ – and you guys were supposed to _be_ there, waiting for me."

His lips curved up in a smile. "You'll make new friends," he assured her, warmth from his hand flowing down the planes of her back.

"But I like the friends I already have," she insisted stubbornly, swiping at her cheeks and sniffling.

He leaned closer, narrowing his gaze imperceptibly. "We're always going to be your friends, Stace," he intoned somberly. "Distance won't change that."

She could feel her heart thumping heavily against her rib cage. "I know," she said softly, desperately resisting the urge to reach for his free hand, resting so casually in his lap. "But I still want to be with you guys…" Her voice trailed off as she averted her eyes from his, feeling that old-familiar flush washing over her face and neck as she contemplated her next words. "I want to be with _you_."

For a moment, the room was filled with heady silence; neither one of them moved. Finally, Stacy dared glance back at him, not sure what to think – or expect. If he was surprised by her confession, he didn't look it; if he was angry or sad or amused, it didn't show in his features. He merely gazed at her assessingly, his arm still around her, his thumb still brushing soothing circles over the base of her neck. For a moment – for an eternity – they merely stared at one another.

Fresh tears spilled over her cheeks as she turned away, pressing her forehand into her knees as sobs welled once more in her chest.

"Stacy, I – " he began, but she cut him off.

"Don't," she bit off, pressing past the lump that had formed in her throat. "Don't say it." _Don't say you could never feel something special for someone like me_, she added silently, not trusting her ability to form complicated words in her rising tide of panic and shame.

"_It's not that_," he insisted, as if he'd read her mind. "It's just – I don't want to hurt you any more than you're already hurting, Stacy."

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head, hating the way her tears felt as they fell against her bare legs.

"I could never – I _would_ never – do that to you," he continued.

She sniffled as she looked up, gathering what few shreds of dignity she still had left after falling to pieces in front of him. "Do what?" she managed, cutting her eyes towards him. "Humor me?"

The flash of determination that shone from his gaze in that moment made her heart skip a beat. In one graceful, fluid motion, he lifted her chin and leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his. The move was so sudden, so unexpected, that he managed to steal the very breath from her lungs.

His lips were warm and pliant, the brush of his mouth against hers gentle, yet insistent. It was the sort of kiss she'd only ever dreamt of receiving, and now – and now –

– he was pulling away…he was heaving a heavy sigh…he was running his thumb over the crest of her cheek as his beautiful emerald eyes searched hers.

"No," he finally said. "_That_."

She unfurled her arms and reached for him, pressing herself close as she kissed him again, wanting nothing more than to hold him and lose herself in the moment, to burrow into him and never let him go – to never _have _to let him go. For a long moment, he resisted, before yielding to her desperation, closing his arms around her waist as one kiss melted into another, and then another. As good as she felt – as _amazing_ as his kisses made her feel, as much as her breath constricted and her heart soared and the muscles across her abdomen tightened – she realized tears were still streaming down her cheeks.

"Don't," she mumbled against his lips. "Don't say this will never work out."

He pulled away, resting his elbows on the table and leaning heavily into his arms. "No matter what," he said as he caught his breath, "this won't change the fact that you're leaving." He closed his eyes. "This won't change the fact that I've hurt you, even when I said I wouldn't."

She could only stare at him, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. "Does this change anything?" she asked, already fearing his answer – and already feeling her heart breaking.

Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "This won't change the fact that I'm going to miss you every day that you're gone," he replied softly.

The two swiftly broke apart as they heard the old pink door creak open again. "Stacy," Renee said softly, "Mom and Dad are here. It's time to go."

Stacy nodded wordlessly, unfolding her body and standing up. Renee gave her sister a long look before turning a hardened stare at Ryan. "C'mon, Stace," she said in a clipped tone, turning to leave the room. "Let's go."

Ryan stood, reaching out for Stacy before she could leave the room. "Stace, wait," he said, his hand curling around her wrist. She turned, but she didn't meet his expectant gaze.

After a moment's hesitation, she spoke. "Would it have worked if I could've stayed?" she asked.

He cupped her cheek, lifting her chin until her eyes met his. "I don't know," he replied helplessly. "Will it work, even if you go?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she murmured. She allowed her hand to slip into his. "Will you give me a reason to want to come back?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving hers until he leaned close, pressing a soft, final kiss to her lips. The heat of anticipated promise curled through her, igniting all places their bodies touched, however fleetingly. All too soon, he pulled away again; for a moment, neither could speak, their eyes focused on their still-joined hands, clasped so tightly together.

Finally, Stacy turned, walking reluctantly through the garish pink door. Ryan followed, their hands still linked, until they made it back to their friends, who were helping Stacy's parents clear away the rest of the food.

The numbness settled over her once more as she tried to commit each person – and this place – to memory. It was strange to realize she wouldn't be coming back here on Monday afternoon, wouldn't be partaking of any of Riley's ice cream inventions or special house shakes, wouldn't be sparring and joking and laughing over music or set lists or performance pieces again. When she woke up in the morning, she'd be in a completely different state, on her own for the first time in fifteen years.

Finally, the others wandered back in, finished helping her parents load up the car with last-minute leftovers. Renee lingered outside as well, and Stacy was grateful for the chance to say goodbye to her friends without her harried parents hovering nearby.

"I'm going to miss you guys," she declared, reaching out to hug Connie. "Never let anyone tell you that you can't do anything, simply because you're the youngest," she advised, giving the girl a reassuring squeeze.

"I won't," Connie promised, reluctant to let her friend go.

Next in line was Richie, who stood awkwardly nearby, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I've never been good with goodbyes," he explained in a rush, folding his arms around Stacy's shoulders. "I've said too many of them already."

Stacy understood what he meant, and found herself smiling in spite of her melancholy mood. "I'll miss you and your hare-brained schemes, Richie," she replied lightly. "If you ever get rich from one of them, I want in on it, okay?"

"It's a deal," he replied, shaking her hand firmly, though his returned grin didn't quite meet his eyes.

Stacy inched closer to the double doors, stopping to hug Riley on her way, before finding herself enveloped in the arms of her best friend. She sighed, resting her head on the Kid's shoulder as the two merely held one another, quite like the moment of their reunion upon his return from Africa. What she loved most about him was how they needed no words to express how they felt about one another – all it took was a look, a smile, a warm hug.

"Write me every day?" she whispered as she let him go.

He smiled. "Only if you call me every weekend," he promised.

She nodded. "I've already asked my parents if I can visit you during the holidays," she informed him. "Christmas just isn't Christmas without New York and the Kid."

They shared a private smile before Stacy turned away, heading for the double glass doors of the P*lace. Two steps away from the entrance stood Ryan; impulsively, she hugged him again, relishing the electric warmth that shrouded her whenever she was in his arms. Perhaps nothing would come of their dalliance; perhaps it was merely the start of something wonderful and brilliant and worth the effort of overcoming distance.

Only time would tell.

"I'll call you," he said softly as he let her go.

"I'll miss you," she replied, unable to resist brushing her fingers through his hair as she drifted out of his embrace.

She pushed through the doors of the P*lace, scrambling into the back of her family's station wagon, finding herself wedged between two suitcases. She didn't look back until they were at the end of the street, and her heart leapt in her chest as she saw her friends clustered together, still grinning and waving – and that's when she knew:

_It's going to be okay._


End file.
